


Bad At This

by chase_acow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-25
Updated: 2011-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-21 18:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_acow/pseuds/chase_acow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the teenwolfkink meme @ http://teenwolfkink.livejournal.com</p><p> </p><p>Derek's been teaching Stiles how to give a blowjob. Stiles decides to show Derek what he's learned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad At This

Stiles smacked his lips and shoved his mouth down on Derek's dick. His mouth felt like a sandbox, but from the noises Derek made, he must be doing something right. He wanted to make Derek feel good, as good as he made Stiles feel when he was belly down on the bed with Derek above him. For his first blowjob, he thought things were going well.

"Stiles. Stiles, stop," Derek said, poking at Stiles' forehead until he pushed Stiles off his dick. He curled his hand over his groin and sagged back onto the mattress. He narrowed his eyes at Stiles and sighed, "You're really bad at this."

"What the hell?" Stiles clambered off the bed, backing up into the motel bathroom.

"C'mon, really? You were working it for almost ten minutes, and there's only so much a guy can take," Derek answered, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. He cracked his knuckles and gestured with his hands, "I don't know how, but you managed sloppy, teeth, and some sort of vicious twist all at the same time. That was probably the worst blowjob I've had in my entire life."

For several seconds, the only sounds in the room was the window unit clicking as it blew lukewarm air through its vents. Then Derek's words really sank in, and Stiles felt himself flush. "I, you," he stuttered, brain scrambling through his not unimpressive vocabulary for something to say. In the end, he settled on a classic, "You jerk! You fucking, asshole."

He stomped over to the television set and rescued his boxers from the cheap tin bunny ears on top. Stiles pulled them up, and then grabbed his shirt from underneath the desk chair. His pants were another matter, he had no idea where those had been tossed when he'd stumbled through the door kissing Derek. He manfully knuckled his eyes to avoid the prick of unshed tears, and looked on the other side of the bed for his missing clothes.

"Where do you think you're going?" Derek asked, finally standing and planting his fists on his hips. He scowled and rolled his eyes as if Stiles was being completely unreasonable about the whole thing. "Get back on the bed, and I'll fuck you. We'll both have fun."

"Yeah, surprisingly, I'm not really in the mood anymore," Stiles answered, sitting on the bed only long enough to pull his pants on and jam his feet in his boots. He checked to make sure his wallet and keys were still in his jacket pocket.

Derek grabbed him by the arm and spun him around, using his arms and the wall to bracket Stiles in. "Don't be such a baby," Derek said, dipping his head and rubbing their cheeks together. He dropped his hand and cupped Stiles though his unzipped jeans. "You want me. You want me to make you feel good."

"Don't touch me," Stiles said, shoving at Derek though smug werewolf didn't bother to move an inch under Stiles' pressure. He stole a page out of Derek's book and snarled, "I swear to God, I will do the chick thing and poke you in the eye, pull your hair, and knee you in the balls. Back off."

Those self-defense classes his dad made him go to might pay off yet. Slowly, Derek backed away and perched on the edge of the desk, completely unconcerned that he was still naked while Stiles had dressed. He watched obviously confused while Stiles shrugged into his jacket and walked out the door.

#

Three days later, Stiles had sixteen missed calls and eight voice messages. Okay, most of them were from Scott and his dad, but one missed call had been from a number he didn't have programmed into his cell and he couldn't make himself listen to the messages. He didn't know whether he felt more angry or embarrassed about that last night with Derek.

He felt like such a dumb kid compared to Derek and all his experience.

He kept his window locked and his door open to the hallway at all times, knowing that if he made any kind of distressed sound, his dad would be there in a minute with his gun drawn. Derek must have known it too, because he stayed scarce long after Stiles had expected him to show up. That bottomless pit of angst in his stomach was definitely not disappointment.

Stiles got through the rest of the week by sleepwalking and taking more medication than his doctor would strictly approve.

"This is getting ridiculous," Scott said on Friday, dropping his lunch tray on the table next to Stiles with a loud slap. "You've got an extra helping of mopey, Derek is ready to tear the town apart, and I'm passing notes."

Stiles took the abused piece of paper from Scott's to keep it from going up his nose or somewhere worse. He grumbled, but pushed his still full tray away and opened the note.

 _Meet me behind the field bleachers after school today. Please._

It was the please that did it. Stiles hadn't known that Derek even knew what the word meant, let alone could use it. True, maybe it wasn't such a big step when written in blotty blue ink scrawled on a dirty receipt, but it was something. Honestly, Stiles would have gone if Derek had cut out magazine letters to spell the word _heel_.

The winter sun barely made a dent in the temperature. Stiles jumped around a bit, both to warm up and to get some of his nerves out. He blew into his hands and then shoved them under his coat into his armpits. Coach had kicked him out of P.E. early since they weren't practicing lacrosse and he'd gotten tired of watching Stiles take dodge ball shots to the head.

"You came."

Stiles turned in time to see Derek step out of the forest like magic. One second Stiles was alone, and the next Derek was there, every dark, menacing inch of him. Instantly, he wanted to go back to before when he could mindlessly kiss Derek for hours at a time, and he struggled to keep his anger with him.

"You said 'please'," Stiles said, and shrugged, looking to the side where he could see buses lining up at the drive through lanes. The bell would ring any second and hundreds of kids would stream out wanting to be anywhere but here. He knew the feeling.

"Stiles," Derek started, then suddenly his hands were on Stiles' hips pulling him backward into Derek's body. He nuzzled down Stiles' neck, tonguing at one of the small moles dotting his skin. "Come back. I've missed you."

For a second, Stiles bought into it, and then Derek rocked his hips forward, showing him exactly what part of Derek missed Stiles. He jerked his elbow back, and the surprise of it actually startled Derek into letting go. "Did you miss me, or did you miss fucking me?" he asked, and then waved Derek's answer off. "Actually, I don't care. Fuck off, instead."

"Why are you so mad?" Derek asked, showing confusion on his usually so reserved face. He tugged at his hair and then soothed it back into place. "What the hell is the problem?"

"Are you serious? I've spent my life taking abuse and feeling ridiculous in front of people," Stiles exploded, grateful that for the moment they were alone. "For some bizarre reason, I thought maybe you were different. Obviously, I was a little more invested in this thing than you are."

Saying the words out loud hurt more than he would have thought. He'd been remotely interested when Scott went through his first relationship, but doing it himself sucked hardcore. Stiles didn't really want all these feelings, didn't know what to do with them, and he'd decided he definitely didn't want to aim them at a werewolf who only tolerated him. He turned to go, his Jeep was in the far parking lot and he'd have to let it warm up before he drove it.

"Wait," Derek grabbed Stiles, and dragged him behind the bleachers. "You don't get to walk away from me again."

"Let me go, Hale," Stiles kicked his knee up, but Derek deflected it with the palm of his hand and stepped between Stiles' thighs to keep him from trying again. "This is about to head into a very non-con place, and unlike you, I have friends and family who will kick your ass. Well, a friend, and a father, but the threat still stands."

Derek glared at him without moving for so long that Stiles thought he'd finally made his point. As much as he wanted Derek and the accompanying orgasms, he wasn't some brainless bimbo who'd let a guy walk all over him. He'd read the pamphlet, hell, he'd read _Twilight_ ; he'd just thought that Derek was different.

Stupid of him.

"Where are your gloves?" Derek asked, suddenly moving to block the wind. He kept his eyes down, but went slow as he reached for Stiles' reddened hands.

"Left them at the motel last week," Stiles answered, twisting his wrists in agitation as Derek moved his hands. He knew this move; Derek would press them against his own dick or down his pants to get sex started.

Instead, Derek lifted his shirt and pressed Stiles' hands against his stomach. His muscles jerked as Stiles' cold skin made contact, but it only took a few seconds for him to warm up. Stiles traced his fingers over Derek's abs, and completely by accident urged Derek closer. It was … nice.

"Why are you so bad at this?" Stiles asked and though he could have been talking to either one of them, Derek answered him.

"I've spent the last six years on the run. We never stayed in one place for more than a couple of months, and I never got close to anyone because I couldn't bear the idea of losing again," Derek said softly, covering Stiles' hands with his own. "I've never been in a relationship before. I'm trying, okay?"

"Try harder," Stiles said, closing the last inch between them for the most awkward hug ever.

Derek chuckled, digging his chin into Stiles' neck because he knew it made Stiles jerk with laughter. "You want to get something to eat?" he asked, slipping his hands into Stiles' back pockets.

"Is that a euphemism for something?" Stiles teased, smiling and pressing a kiss to Derek's cheek.

Derek immediately turned his head turning the kiss into something much more 'R' rated. "No, I mean a legitimate, sit down meal that doesn't come in a bag or with a toy," he said, linking their hands and pulling Stiles along behind him.

"But I like the toy!"

#

Stiles wiped his palms on the sheets and glanced up at Derek. It took them a couple of weeks, but they were back in the motel, and even though Stiles felt better about the whole thing, he didn't want either one of them to mess it up again. Their first fight had been messy enough.

While he curved his palm over the back of Stiles' skull, Derek didn't make any other move to encourage Stiles down. He had propped himself up with the pillows against the headboard and settled with his legs splayed across the width of the bed. Stiles had stripped him down earlier, and the garish bedspread made his pale skin look even more otherworldly.

"Well, here goes nothing," Stiles tried to joke, but his mouth got stuck in a grimace instead of a grin. His stomach twisted painfully, but if anything, he'd always been willing to try something twice.

"Remember what I showed you," Derek said, petting Stiles and lifting his knee to steady Stiles' back. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

Licking his lips, Stiles bent his head breathing gently over the head of Derek's cock. He shifted his weight to the side stroked his palm down the muscles on Derek's chest and stomach. His fingers skritched through the thin trail of wiry hair leading down from Derek's belly button until he cupped the top of Derek's dick.

Carefully covering his teeth, Stiles let a bit of saliva build up before he leaned down to kiss Derek's dick. He supported it with one hand while he mouthed his way along the shaft to Derek's balls. Everything he did, he kept slow, wet, and firm. He rubbed circles with his thumb, teasing, and licking every couple of seconds to keep everything going smoothly.

Derek grew a little more, his dick pulsing in Stiles' hand, and he startled himself to realize he was actually looking forward to it. Derek gave off a pleasant musky smell, and he was so warm. Stiles made a ring with his fingers and sucked as much of Derek's cock into his mouth as he could. It felt heavy on his tongue, precious, and he wanted so badly to make Derek feel good.

Above him, Derek grunted, but Stiles ignored the sound remembering the last time when he'd completely misjudged the situation. He kept his hand near his lips to keep pressure going as his bobbed up and down. With only a little wobble, he got up on his knees and used his free hand to play with Derek's balls, tugging them playfully and nudging Derek's legs further apart.

Using his tongue, Stiles traced the big vein on the underside of Derek's cock. He flicked the tender spot beneath the head of Derek's cock, and began moving faster. Stiles made sure he didn't backtrack as he built up speed and pressure. He waited until Derek squirmed beneath him, and then he took as much as he could into his mouth and hummed.

" _Stiles._ "

He looked up in time to see Derek's eyes ice over and was caught completely off guard when Derek shot off in his mouth. Stiles jerked away and took a second spurt of come on his cheek and across his nose. Moving his mouth back, he actually tasted the last bit and decided next time he'd strategically position a trashcan next to the bed. He rubbed his hands over Derek's hips and thighs, gentling his mouth until Derek finished and slipped out.

Derek groaned and hauled Stiles on top of him. He kissed hard chasing his own taste deep in Stiles' mouth. When he broke the kiss, he licked the come off Stiles' cheek with broad strokes of his rough tongue. He tucked Stiles into the curve of his body, and stroked his fingers down Stiles' throat.

"That was great," Derek said softly. "Thank you."

"I'm freakin' awesome," Stiles corrected, struggling to stay awake for a little longer. He'd have to make it back home before his dad showed up, and Derek had already taken him apart and wore him out earlier. "Maybe we aren't so bad at this."

He'd shut his eyes for a second, he decided, long enough to enjoy the afterglow, and then he'd get up and shower. Relief rushed through his body, just as intoxicating as his earlier orgasm. Stiles stretched and curled his fingers over Derek's shoulder.

Derek chuckled, pulling the scratchy comforter them both and hitched Stiles' legs into a more comfortable position.


End file.
